The Art of Manipulation
by RZZMG
Summary: Hermione wants Draco Malfoy, and she's not taking 'no' for an answer. Who even knew deceit could feel so good? Post-Hogwarts 7th year, AU. Romance-Drama-Comedy. 2013 DramioneLove Valentine's Fest. One-shot. COMPLETE!


**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**This was my 2013 DramioneLove Valentine's Fic & Art Fest (dramionelove . livejournal . com) entry. The fest is over and reveals are out, so now I can post this for you here. ****This fanfic is a one-shot and is finished. Here was the prompt I worked from:**

_Prompt: #10- "I am easily satisfied with the very best." - Winston Churchill_

**Thank you to my beta, Ladysashi, and to my daughter, E, for inspiring me with a plot.**

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**DISCLAIMER: **"Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This fanfiction was written entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**TIMELINE:** Hogwarts-era 7th year, A/U (no war, no Voldemort resurrected).

**CHARACTERS FEATURED (alphabetical order, last name):** Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy

**SUMMARY:** Hermione wants Draco Malfoy, and she's not taking 'no' for an answer. Who even knew deceit could feel so good?

**RATING: **PG-15 (T)

**WARNINGS:** Implicit heterosexual sex (off-screen), post-coital bliss. Comedy. Characters slightly OOC because of the alternate universe scenario.

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**_THE ART OF MANIPULATION_**

**BY RZZMG**

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_**14 February, 1994**_

Of all the boys in school, Draco Malfoy is the least likely candidate for Hermione Granger to consider shagging. He's much too smug, too cruel, too clever, and too hateful for her tastes. He's deceitful, disingenuous, and disdainful, too. He may have proper table manners and dress impeccably, but his mouth demonstrates a propensity for a vulgar vocabulary.

For all those reasons, Hermione Granger knows that Malfoy is not someone she should want – not in the least.

But Hermione's smart enough to understand that knowing the awful truth within your head isn't the same as _knowing_ such a thing within your heart.

So she contents herself to watching him instead, stealing covert glances whenever Ron and Harry and Ginny aren't paying close enough attention, and that's enough for her.

At least for a few years.

**~. . . . .~**

**__****14 February, 1997**

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"In the English language, Granger, 'no' is the proper negative response given to someone who asks you an asinine question."

Hermione glares. She doesn't like being told 'no'.

"You _won't _help me, then?" she repeats.

Malfoy rolls his eyes and sighs. "No, means no, Granger. Isn't that the well-taught female mantra when being pressured for sex?"

"But you're not female," she states the obvious.

He tosses his hands in the air, uncrosses his ankles, and drops his feet from the desk he's currently sitting behind. The small, boxy Quidditch office belonging to Slytherin's team suddenly seems insufferably smaller when he stands to his full height and comes around it to face-off with her. "So it doesn't count just because I have a cock and bollocks? How sexist is that?"

Hermione crosses her arms and stares down at him, ignoring his outrage. "You're absolutely sure you won't do this for me?"

Malfoy scoffs. "Not for all the tea in England." His eyes roam over her. "You may have spouted into a very shaggable witch, Granger, but I'm not dipping my precious pureblood wick into anyone but the witch I'm destined to marry. I'm not losing my dick for a one-off, no matter how amazing it would be."

Ah, yes, the Purity Vow - an ingenious, if not old-fashioned charm.

Hermione had heard the rumours regarding that ridiculously outdated Victorian custom during fourth year, and once she'd set her eye on Malfoy, she'd researched its veracity. It had surprised her to learn that abstaining from sex prior to marriage was still a practiced convention amongst the elite pureblood families – and that the tradition was enforced with a rather nasty spell upon all pureblood children.

Fortunately for her, Hermione had also learned in her readings the loophole to that particular institution, and like the clever, bold Gryffindor witch that she is, Hermione Granger isn't afraid to use that teensy, overlooked mistake to her advantage now.

She _wants_ Draco Malfoy, and she's not going to let some absurd, antiquated tradition take him from her.

"Whoever 'she' turns out to be," she casually reminded her intended, purposefully goading him, "and however long it is until you marry. You've no idea, do you? You'll remain a virgin until you're fifty, I suppose."

He snorts. "Not likely. I'll find the woman I'm meant to be with well before then – and she'll be beautiful, sexy, intelligent, cunning, feisty, and more than a match for my parents." He ticks off the list of qualities on his fingers as he names them.

Hermione notes he's left out one very important attribute, however.

"You forgot 'of pureblood stock'."

Malfoy shrugs, unconcerned, as if that was an implied requirement.

_We'll see about that._

She glances up at him, feeling the heat between them once more. This discussion is riling them both up, she knows. Her knickers are already damp with her arousal. As for Draco… she knows he can talk a good mouthful about being rooted in his ancestral beliefs, but Hermione is very much aware that he secretly wants her, even though the idea galls every fibre of his pureblood being. Every time they brush against each other (whether by accident, or her purposeful design), he gets a conspicuous erection. It's why he's taken to donning an all-black ensemble this year she's quite sure, as he tries to hide the obvious.

With a resigned sigh, Hermione realizes that it's time to pull out 'the big guns', if she's ever going to get him to throw her down and fuck her silly. Sometimes, blatant exaggeration is called for if a girl wants results, and this is definitely one of those times.

"I suppose I'll have to ask Harry or Ron to take care of my little problem, then. I'd hoped to give such an important and precious thing to you, Malfoy, but since you're clearly not interested…"

Her lure thus cast, she turns for the door.

In a blurring flash of silver, black, and green, Malfoy zips past her and blocks the exit.

"You're not serious," he grumbles. His frown is quite severe. "Getting one of the Idiot Squad to pop your cherry? That's… that's…"

"A really good option, actually," she says, feigning a growing interest in the idea. She begins ticking off the attributes on her fingers to rile him up. "We're in the same House, so the commute into either man's bed would be much easier and faster than attempting to sneak into the Slytherin dungeon. They're both my best friends, so either one of them would handle my body with extreme care. I know for a fact that both Harry and Ron have already experienced sex, and both are quite good at it, according to Lavender and Ginny. Overall, either of them would be able to accomplish the task I require with a patient, guiding hand... and I'm sure to orgasm _really hard_ under such stress-free and enjoyable circumstances - maybe even more than once." As if she is quite taken with the idea, she gives a sage nod. "Yes, I think I like that plan much better, actually." She pats Malfoy on the shoulder in a friendly gesture of thanks. "You were quite right: it was insane for me to appeal to you to take my virginity. Thank you for agreeing not to help me this time, Draco." She rubs her hands together with fake anticipation. "I'll just go ask Harry first."

She makes to move around him, but his arm suddenly blocks her path.

"Pick someone else."

Their bodies inches apart, she glances up at him with as much innocence as she can muster, working hard to keep a straight face. "Why ever would I want to do that? Harry is a good man and a solid choice. He'd be decent about taking me to his bed."

This game she's playing is a dangerous one. It could backfire on her, she knows. But, Hermione is smart enough to realize that she's in it now up to her neck, and so might as well go for broke.

"And I really don't see how it's any of your business any longer, Draco. You turned me down, so…" She leaves the thought hanging, waiting for his next move.

He growls right in her face, dropping his mouth until his lips are hovering over hers. "I don't want either of those fuckwads touching you like that."

Teasingly, she lets her tongue slide across her lower lip. It doesn't graze him –she's careful not to touch him first– but his eyes darken with desire, as if she's given him a full-on lick.

"Give me an alternative, then," she baits him.

It takes great restraint on her part not to reach out and touch him, but to keep her hands at her sides. She is so close to getting what she's carefully planned out and wanted since their fourth year, but she has to curb her natural instincts. He _has _to make the first move or it won't count.

Malfoy's chest pumps up and down with heavy indecision as they teeter together on the edge, staring at each other with blatant lust. An unnamed emotion tightens his expression, something akin to pain and Hermione understands: he's contemplating crossing an unforgivable line, even knowing what it will mean for them both.

"You manipulative witch," he accuses in a harsh whisper.

She smirks, and knows that this one arrogant expression –the one _he's _most famous for giving- is the push he's needed.

His hands grip her upper arms in a fierce hold, and he slams her back into the wall as his mouth closes over hers. He ravages her lips, clearly angry that he's been cornered and forced to go against everything he's been raised to believe - and to possibly suffer the consequences of some terrible charm.

Hermione doesn't mind his anger, and she'll take his violence, because she knows that it won't last. Soon, he'll let go and soften, accepting what they're doing, and then she'll finally have him as she's wanted since she was fourteen.

She also knows that she's broken the enchantment of that silly Purity Vow spell by breaking through Draco's incredible stubbornness. Yes, it took manipulating his feelings to accomplish that goal, but she's won. Her, Muggleborn Hermione Granger, has beaten centuries of pureblood breeding habits... all by utilizing a few successful Slytherin tactics.

Goodness, who'd have ever guessed that deceit could feel so right?

**~. . . . .~**

**__****14 February, 1999**

"You knew, didn't you?" he asks, his fingers stroking though her long, tangled hair in the post-coital languor.

Hermione feigns ignorance. "Hmmm?"

A chuckle rumbles through his chest. "Schemer, you knew that once we'd lost our virginities to each other, there was no going back for either of us."

Coyly, she traces a fingernail over his nipple. It rallies to prominence in response, despite his body's clear exhaustion. "I might have."

Her new husband flips her onto her back and leans over her, much as he had that night a year ago when he'd taken her virginity in the Slytherin Quidditch office on the old, leather couch.

"How?"

She tosses him that smirk that she knows always gets him hard. "Once you touched me with such resolve, the Purity Vow's spell recognised your intent to make me _yours._ The spell interpreted that as I was meant to be your 'happily ever after'."

Draco tweaks an eyebrow at that. "You mean you riled me up on purpose."

Hermione playfully shrugs. "Actually, what I got you to do was admit you wanted me more than you feared the Purity Vow's consequences. You admitted your real feelings for me, and they were the forever kind. The charm was broken as a result."

Her husband rolls his eyes. "How cliché! True love saves the day."

Rubbing a finger over his cheek, Hermione does feel a tiny bit guilty about her manipulations. "Are you angry that I tricked you?"

Draco snorted, and pressed his mouth to the pulse in her throat, bestowing a gentle kiss. "Hardly. Besides, it's quite alright. I am easily satisfied with the very best. Besides, I told you that I was destined for a woman who was beautiful-"

He kissed the bottom of her jaw.

"-sexy-"

He kissed the corner of her mouth.

"-intelligent-"

He nibbled her bottom lip.

"-cunning-"

He parted her mouth with his tongue and licked.

"-and feisty."

He turned to the neglected side of her neck and began sucking on the sensitive flesh there.

"And more than a match for your parents," she reminded him around a gasp, enjoying his attentions, feeling her body beginning to respond to him once more. No wonder honeymooning was considered the best part of a marriage! "Or in this particular case, a match for your parent's spellwork."

"Absolutely," he agreed, and parted her thighs with his bigger body.

"You manipulative man," she giggled as he seduced her quite thoroughly once more. "Flattery will get you _everywhere_, you know_."_

Draco chuckled as he slid his hands down her waist. "God, I hope so."

_**~FIN~**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**No sequel planned - one-shot only. Please review!**


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